Dream of Better Days
by Stoic Harlequin
Summary: Sometimes, going topside means more than pizza and skateboarding. In the city that never sleeps, realities are harsh and leaders are born. 2012-centric
1. Dead End World

_**::Author's Note:**_: Okay, so it's been awhile. We know and we apologize for that. However, with the new show and new energy we decided to tackle this brave new world! Yes, there was a lot of 'new' in that sentence! We're excited about all the new.

Now it came to our attention that there's a lot of differences, but a lot of similarities too, in the new show. Some of you may not like the 2012 series, some of you may tolerate it, and some of you may LOVE it. Either way, a lot of this story is going to be focused on character development for our favorite turtley heroes from that particular genre.

Leo. Primarily Leo; and how he goes from being almost bossy-hall-monitor to responsible leader. Though it's entertaining and endearing to see him as a 15 year old boy, it's also a wonderment as to how he grew into his role. This will be an exploration of that idea, that theory.

But, fear not, there will be plenty of Hamato-family dynamic to go around! Thank you for giving this story a look-see and rest assured that future chapters will be more turtle focused. This, our friends, just sets the stage for what is to come. We promise lots of character development, action, and story. We are anticipating a 4-5 chapter long piece; shorter than our normal work.

Again, thank you very much. We'd love to hear what you think.

-Stoic and Harley

* * *

**Dream of Better Days  
**Preface:  
Dead End World

"I'm not going in there. Are you crazy?"

A lazy snort came from a boy, no older than sixteen, who leaned against the edge of crate boxes behind him, stacked up in crooked rows along the side of a brick building. He was taller and thicker than the others, with two hearty round gauges in his ears, and a Mohawk on his head that alluded to his despising 'The Man' and would do whatever he wanted despite what society said he should do attitude. He was the leader of their group and it was clear by the way the others stood around him, almost in reverence, waiting for him to refute, to the other boy's opposition.

"I knew you were some sort of pussy - just do it. " He challenged in a low, almost bored, drawl.

"It's about to fall down, there is no way I'm going in there. And I'm not a pussy! It's just…we could get caught…"

Their leader wrinkled his nose and shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself. 'Sides that's half the fun, ain't it?" He smirked and gestured for the others to follow him. The boy pushed the smaller one out of his way, knocking him back so he stumbled into the grimy alleyway. The group teenagers disappeared through the door of the tall building. On the ground sat the boy, the singular voice of opposition. He hissed as he hit the ground, his hand scraped across the concrete and little pinpricks of blood forming across his palm from the shredded skin.

The building had well over a dozen floors, perhaps two dozen, and it stood on what seemed to be a weakened foundation. Windows were broken and boarded up; several of the fire escapes were rusted through the bottom so badly that large, gaping holes were left. The boy looked upwards at the red-rusted iron and the looming building above; he was almost certain it swayed for how rickety its walls were. Perhaps it had been beautiful in its day, but now it blended into this corner of the city. Decrepit, forgotten, and falling apart.

He stood up, looking around at the stacked boxes and trash, piled up high beside a foul smelling dumpster. It was quiet – as quiet as the city really got with sirens in the distance, steam whistling from the vents along the sidewalk and the sound of the wind whirling through the dark night, snaking through the buildings. It was eerie though and enough to make him curse under his breath at the kids who left him behind.

Debating a moment longer, he finally opened the door too and slipped inside. The flimsy metal door banged shut behind him. He could hear laughter across the open space. It looked almost like an old hotel or maybe a condominium. There were remnants of walls that perhaps once served as a lobby to a fancy office building or the ground floor of an apartment complex. Now it was a home for the rats and consisted of peeling paint and crumbled drywall.

They were all sitting on the floor, a cooler in the middle and flashlight clicked on, providing little white light. "Hey! Look who decided to stop being a sissy and join us?! Here kid, take one" One of the kids tossed him a bottled beer before he could reasonably catch it. It fumbled in his hands, the glass slipping from the condensation against his fingers and the bottle crashed to the ground, spilling the contents of whatever alcohol they managed to lift earlier that day. He flinched at the uproar of protest from the others and he ducked down to scoop up some of the broken pieces.

"You gotta be the most freakish kid I know, Julio, dropping a valuable commodity like that. You know what I went through to steal it? It's good shit and you're wasting it! Why'd you invite him again?" One of the kids complained to the one in the Mohawk, who merely smirked. The back of his hand smacked into the chest of the one who protested, holding him there. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Who invited you in the first place?" The voice rang out low and deep, gurgled from the depths of a large man's throat. All of the kid's eyes turned up to see a very tall, wide standing man before them, his foot falls stopping just in the fan of light that came from the flashlight's beam. He had on a black muscle shirt, showing a large bicep that was adorned in a deep colored dragon tattoo that snaked around the whole length of his arm. He smiled at the teenagers with a crooked grin, which was anything but welcoming.

A dozen more of the gang came behind him. "Oh shit, DJ, what is this? A tea party?" a scrawny black man chirped at the leading Purple Dragon. His question was followed with a squirrelly laugh.

"Just cuz the door was open don't mean all's welcome. Turns out...we were workin' there." one of the Dragons dropped a crate with a thud to the ground and kicked the flashlight across the concrete floor. It spun in circles, splashing light across the concrete wildly.

In an instant, as if on queue, the kids scrambled up. They climbing clumsily all over one another to get back to the door they'd come through, despite there being half a dozen Purple Dragons between them and the escape. Giving the teens a small start, out of fear, and for the thrill of the chase, the Dragons didn't immediately move.

"JULIO move!" One of the kids barked as Julio had slipped on the beer which he'd sloshed across the floor. It caused him to drop to his knees, soaking his jeans in the amber liquid. More than that, however, it made him the slowest of the group and the easiest target. Barely fifteen years old and all he could think was that this was not the way he wanted to die.

And he was sure he was going to die.

When he felt himself hoisted off the ground by his coat, Julio knew he was alone. Strong arms wrapped around the fabric and yanked him up like a sack of potatoes, easily handling his scrawny frame. The building was quiet, his mediocre and so-called "friends" abandoned him. Tears, hot and terrified, welled in his eyes and gushed across his cheeks, dribbling down his chin in terrified waterfalls. As his feet dangled under him and his body ached from the brunt force of his fall into the beer, and the concrete earlier outside. He started to beg in mumbles that came out in quivering sobs more than anything.

"Heh! DJ, looks like he's about to piss himself," the dark skinned man squealed, as elated as a fisherman who hooked a prized catch.

"Can it, T-bone!" the man pulled Julio close to his face, so much that the young man could almost taste the Dragon's bad breath that radiated from his yellowed teeth.. "Know what we do with kids who snoop? S'right...teach 'em a lesson." He taunted in a low hiss.

Julio wasn't just sure he was going to die...he was positive he was already dead. Particularly as his vision was flooded with moonlight and the dull yellow glow of the back alley's only permanent resident - a street lamp. He had no sense of time or awareness as tears blurred his eyes and he didn't have the will, or the courage to wiggle free from DJ's grasp. It was temporary that he had vision at all because his face hit the pavement faster than he knew he'd been pitched out into the street. A crack sounded through the still night as his face smashed against the concrete, adding rivers of blood to the pools of tears on his cheeks.

"A lesson that gets back to his gang not to screw with the Purple Dragons." It was the last thing Julio heard before he felt a steel-toed boot meet his ribs in a painfully crushing blow. He could feel the reverberation from the crack of several ribs, one of which almost poked through his cocoa skin. He made his primary mistake, in that moment. Rather than take the punishment on behalf of his group, he finally scrambled to his hands and knees in an attempt to escape. Survivalist mode had kicked in and the small amount of adrenaline driving him had him scurrying like a lost and frightened animal. Julio never saw it coming, as his eyes were on the black grimey ground and his vision blurred by tears and blood. The fat Dragon made mostly of doughy blubber - in an attempt to stop him - came down, with his heel, on the back bend of Julio's knee.

Despite his best efforts, through his teary panic, he screamed out as the tendons and ligaments of his knee tore. The very bone of his kneecap crushed into pieces and fragments embedded into the meaty parts of his muscle. He crumpled to the ground in a heap, blood from where his calf bones splintered and cracked through his knee already pooling around his leg. Any hope of escape was lost in his echoed screams as they bounced off the buildings around them.

Overhead, four sets of feet beating the rooftops in a nightly run skidded to a halt, sending bits of gravel and dust over the edge of the massive building.

Raph leaned back over his right shoulder, peeking down at the commotion below. Instantly and silently, his two sai broke free from their home on his belt and he sprang from the rooftop, followed by three similarly prepared mutant turtles.


	2. We Hold this Ghost in Our Arms

**Dream of Better Days  
**Chapter 1:  
We Hold this Ghost in Our Arms

Leo had not needed to give an order for his brothers to take to action. No part of him questioned their judgment this time, they were working as a team. Raph was quick to pick a fight, far too quick sometimes. If anything, he was the biggest liability for his lack of control over his emotions and subsequent actions. Don was smart enough to know what was right and wrong, and which situations would yield them success. Mikey would follow one of their leads, trusting his brothers blindly. Once in awhile, in the heat of the moment, Raph could be a loose cannon; but the situation below - some kid getting the snot kicked out of him - seemed a fair place to start investigating by breaking up the beat down party.

There wasn't much threat or challenge in the band of street thugs. In fact, Leo's confidence, perhaps sometimes overly so, made him certain they could manage to thwart this boy's attackers. It was painfully obvious that they weren't ready for an aerial assault, or of any retaliation at all for how they were so focused on beating Julio near to death.

They all landed in silent rolls and jumps. Leo's katana cut through the air like a slice of butter, smooth and effortless as he moved. And Raph's sai's spun between his bulbous digits at the same rate as Mikey's nunchucks whizzed around. Donnie had a solid grip on his Bo staff, controlling it with all of the force in his fingertips. They each went off in their own direction, still learning on how to work cohesively and create a plan of attack on the spot; for now, attacking with all their force worked best.

The chain of Mikey's nunchuck caught one wrist of a Dragon, who was drawing back to clock Julio square in his already blood covered jaw. In an instant, however, the chains of the nunchucks wrapped around the meaty wrist, cutting into the flesh for how tightly it constrained him. In a swift motion, Mikey had the man's arms around his back and held like a pair of handcuffs surprisingly slapped on the attacker.

"BOOYAKASHA!" He howled energetically, his words echoing off the buildings around them. The fist that made contact to the Dragon was actually Raph's. The red clad turtle expertly brought his knuckles into the fat belly of the dumpling man Mikey had restrained with his nunchuck. "Give 'em a one two, Raph!" Mikey cheered, as if Raph was a boxer practicing furiously on his punching bag.

With his shell to his two brothers and the thick man, Leo rolled over to his feet and sprang to action. His katana cut the air, like a beautiful rainfall of deadly silver. He offered a warning slice to the leading Purple Dragon's arm. A thick cut sliced into the Dracon's arm, running elbow to wrist, and dripped with blood that trailed onto the end of Leo's blade. He rose it to meet the eyes of his opponent, his own eyes lowered dangerously. "You stick around and you're asking for more."

"I ain't afraid of no freak," a snarl came back at him as the man pressed the wound to his shirt in an attempt to get the bleeding to stop.

Leo stepped closer to him, backing the man up into a corner to join a pair of thugs Don had already gridlocked. The other four had run off, unceremoniously leaving their comrades to deal with the turtle problem. There was no such thing as a friend in this world, but a series of survivalists all for the common goal; save themselves. There was no difference in the Purple Dragon when they could see their chances were slim.

"What kind'a freak are you?" The same man barked at Leo, trying to get his attention as the blade had moved to point directly to his throat. He seemed to be putting on a front. He hid the fear in the depths of his pupils, underneath the cold and hard exterior of his rugged face.

"I think it's an ugly mask, DJ." T-Bone's jackal-like laugh escaped him, ringing out around them as Don and Leo had all three caged in. There was less of a taunt and tease to T-Bone's voice for his face was already swelling profusely and bruising around the impact of his jaw. There was a clear mark across his cheek where Don had used his Bo staff to snap across his face, sending an exploding red-hot pain radiating over his face. His speech was even slightly slurred, perhaps from a broken jaw due to the sheer force of Don's whack.

Raph grabbed the fat man's wrist, pinned beside his goon-like friends, and twisted his arm so he was properly situated. With a hearty heave, every muscle in Raph's back and arm worked to throw the man over his shoulder and drop him like a sack of potatoes on the concrete. He dusted his hands off nonchalantly and stepped up next to his brothers, returning his sai's back to his hands as he did so.

"Actually, masks wouldn't be conducive to the shape of our heads or the type of battle we do. With the consistency of the latex, we would surely suffocate while fighting. Even if they were breathable and fit a human shaped skull, how would you explain -"

"DONNIE!" Leo snapped a warning before Raph had the opportunity, though the turtle leader could hear the hot -head growl softly from somewhere behind him. There was a time and place for Don's brain to shine and this was not it. This, instead, was a time to bargain...to defeat; and science didn't have a place in that.

"Oh right, sorry." Don mumbled, momentarily abashed, tucking his chin down. A flush of red crossed his cheeks and he raised his staff higher, hoping to contribute somehow.

Whimpers sounded from Julio as the boy was desperately trying to get up and failing. A deep and heavy sob jolted Leo's mind back to reality and the situation at hand. The monsters who had caused this altercation to begin with and what must be done about them. Katana pointed at the small huddle of Dragons, Leo narrowed his eyes in on their head man, D.J. it seemed. The blade glinted in the glow of the street lamp.

His arm dropped. "Go."

Raph's muscles tightened and a low growl escaped him. His feet could be heard stomping forward and his sai were crushed in a death grip in his palm. His mouth immediately protested, "Leo!"

"They aren't our concern right now." Leo's head snapped away from the direction of the four remaining Dragons and toward his brother. His eyes were dark and serious. "Get out of here." he snapped at the four of them after he addressed Raph, clearly not allowing for further argument from his brother. T-Bone walked passed Raph with a condescending smirk that made his hackles shoot on end. Raph lunged at him but it was with Leo's arm that he stopped, held back by his brother's direction.

"Leo, are ya kidding me?!" Raph barked once he watched the last Purple Dragon thug crest the corner and disappear onto the NYC street. He pushed Leo's arm down and stepped around to look at him, his cheeks the same fiery red, in spite of his green face, as his eye mask.

"No, I'm not. We have to get him out of here. He is hurt and no amount of unnecessary fighting is going to do us any good right now. His safety is our primary concern, this kid is a victim. We have to help those who need it, not those who are the abusers, Raph."

"What?!" Raph roared and his eyes grew twice their size. "He's not OUR concern at all! He'd probably be ready to throw four ugly monsters under the bus once he realizes we're no less scary than those thugs! Lets just leave him, we have to get out of here. We stopped the bad guys, or at least we WERE until you let them just walk away! Now its time to walk away too. Not our mess, not our problem."

"Good idea," Mikey mumbled with a small and encouraging nod.

"We're not leaving him." Leo retorted without a moment's hesitation as he sheathed his katana in his back holster. There were times, when Raph really pushed him, that Leo was left debating, with himself, the words of his brother; particularly when it was questioning his decisions. If anyone, other than Leo himself, could question and make him doubt his own ideas, it was Raph. It wouldn't be the first time Leo had let a Dragon walk and Raph found Leo's mercy a weakness. This time, Leo didn't allow a second of doubt to cross his mind. This was not a moment in which to doubt, it was a moment in which he had to do what was right in the long run. Like save this boy's life.

Mikey was nodding now toward Leo, agreeing with his suggestion and reasoning fully.

"We could take him to a hospital." Don offered brightly, his face lighting up.

Leo and Raph's heads snapped around to their brainy brother in astonishment. Don's eyes got wide and confused, as if he could simply not understand the sheer outlandish nature of such a suggestion. Though Mikey's voice rang out resoundingly. "YES! A hospital. Perfect!"

Raph glanced over at Mikey with one brow ridge arched. "Remember the cat guy I warned you about? Ugly, green, mutant...ninja weapons? Yeah, remember how that ended - with you falling down a fire escape and a cat attached to your back? That's sort of what this would be like, only way worse. Like where we end up with half the staff evacuating the hospital because they're scared...OF US!"

"Raph's right," Leo added, with a level head and not at all the colorful explanation his brother tacked on, "we can't go to the hospital. We can't risk the exposure."

"Please...please don't leave me." Julio whined, his body flopped helplessly on the ground like a beached fish. "They'll kill me. They'll...I'll die. They'll come back...I can't...I just want to go home... Please..." He was clearly in shock and suffering from an excruciating amount of pain. The teenage wasn't at all alarmed by four mutant turtles, he didn't even seem to fully see them through the blurred eyes and the glassy, shocked expression on his face. The fact that they'd saved his life may have lent to his obliviousness. The boy couldn't figure out why he didn't just go home when he started to question his misbegotten 'friends' plan for the night.

Leo took in a deep breath in the hopes that it would clear his head. As he did so, his eyes fluttered shut and he thought for a moment, every avenue of possibility running through his mind like some complicated chess game. What would Captain Ryan, his favorite TV hero and leader, do? What would Master Splinter do? What _should _**he** do? Taking him to their sewer lair wasn't an option. Leaving him there for the Purple Dragons to come for him wasn't an option. Forgetting what they'd seen wasn't an option either.

His eyes snapped open and it was clear his eyes held the quick plan he had developed in those moments. "Don, Raph, get to the roof - out of sight. Call the cops, direct them here. Mikey and I will get him inside; out of the alley in case the Purple Dragons come back. The cops will take care of it and we can get out of here unnoticed."

"Leo..." Don started but the blue clad turtle had already had enough of being questioned in the moment. He bent down next to Julio, whose pleas had been his final words before passing out from the sheer volume of pain.

"Just do it." Leo instructed firmly, with no wiggle room for debate. "We'll meet you up there in a minute." Don looked anxious and dejected at Leo's cut off.

It was in Leo's best interest, his intention, to get Raph out of the immediate situation. His already compromised emotional well being, for the fact that he was angry at Leo for his decisions, was only going to cause more problems and cloud Leo's judgment. He knew his brother needed something to do that wasn't involving the kid with the broken leg. Don's level head would keep Raph in check, Leo hoped.

Raph didn't protest after Don started to and the both of them silently and stealthily sprang up the fire escape toward the roof.

"Come on, Mikey...help me move him." Leo requested softly, doing his best to keep the kid from being too badly jostled. He couldn't be much older, if at all, than them. Leo just wanted to deposit him inside and get the cops there to find this teenager the best medical attention and then move on with his life - with one more learning experience under his belt.


	3. Just Know that I Tried

**Dream of Better Days  
**Chapter 2:  
Just Know that I Tried

"Well?"

Don looked at Raph. A flash of helplessness and bemusement crossed his face, before his brow came together in irritation. "Well what?" he retorted in quick retaliation.

"Wellll..." Raph drew out the word in annoyance with Don's inaction. "You're the one with the T-Cell on hand! Call 'em, like Leo said. So we can get outta here."

Floundering, Don peeked over the edge of the building. It was very high, overlooking a sleepy and fairly quiet city block. They were lucky for that, it was likely no one had seen them arrive in the first place. Some distance down, he could see Leo and Mikey disappear into the building, the kid draped between them like a sack of lumpy potatoes. He offered a sheepish, nervous laugh, before peeking back at Raph.

"Actually, that's not really an option. You see, when I designed the T-Cell I didn't account for need for us to _ever_ really need to contact the police. The service I cross-utilized to hop carriers and assimilate to the hardware in the device is a government issued cell unit. If we opened up the line of communication to such a public service, civil unit they'd be able to easily track the device by way of the network, at least in theory. The device is my design," he said proudly, with a pause for praise. There was even a bright eyed, starry look in his eyes as he awaited his pat on the back or 'good job!' When Raph merely looked at him with a half befuddled and half raged expression, Don cleared his throat, noting to offer himself praise later if his brother wasn't. It was a brilliant idea and Donnie knew it too. "Right, well the service isn't, I had to **_borrow _**that from somewhere, and it could - potentially, if opened...maybe... lead them right back to us."

"So, from all that babble, what you're saying is that that thing is useless?!" Raph unfolded his arms only to gesture to the phone in Don's hand. His cheeks were already flushed the same red as his bandana, quickly flooding his face as his capacity for irritation and anger was growing smaller and smaller. He might just explode.

"I hadn't accounted for us calling third parties. You know, aside from April," Don's cheeks glowed pink momentarily and he even shrank back a little bit, worried about what sort of reaction this might yield; and from the mere mention of April. Raph took a warning step forward in his 'get to the point' posture. Don knew if he didn't boil it down that time in a manner Raph deemed acceptable, he risked a fight with his burly brother. "Pretty much, yeah - right now, useless. I tried to tell Leo but...you know how he is." Don frowned and his eyes searched the ground at admitting such a thing about one of his beloved inventions.

Raph groaned. He was completely irritated with the outcome so far; sure there had been a few bodies smacked around but not nearly enough, in his estimation. His expectations in jumping in to help some poor sap shouldn't have resulted in a detour like this; nor having to listen to Don's techno-babble. He appreciated his brother's more brainy side for the stuff it netted them, not the hows or the whys. He would quickly admit that Don was a genius and defend him to any outsider that might suggest otherwise; but to be stuck listening to him wasn't on Raph's top priority list.

Don moved to the other edge of the building, gripping its concrete ledge with his large three fingered hand.. He leaned over the edge far enough that his plastron scrapped the concrete and he could look down...way down.

"What are you doing?" Raph tried not to snap, though he failed as his anger seeped through his tight-lipped mouth. He had half a mind to push Don a little, just to scare him - Raph would never let him actually fall over the ledge but it'd be a nice payback to scare him a little with the idea.

"Looking for a payphone. 911 is always a free call." Don didn't bother looking back, too busy scanning the ground below for a phone.

It was better than nothing. Raph followed suit, sprinting to one of the other edges, but he turned back just as Don did. "Nothing."

"Me either." Don agreed.

"Come on! You gotta be kididng me, there has to be a payphone! We have to move and find one."

"We can't just leave, Raph. Leo said to wait here, they'd be up in a minute."

"He also said to call the cops for that kid with the busted knee. Look, I'm not keen on getting involved either - but we don't got much of a choice. I'm going. Stay if you want. What do I care?" Raph had already nonchalantly moved to the edge of the building. With agile legs and careful moments, he was far too quick to be stopped He didn't hesitate either, not waiting on Don's opinion, to hop over the edge and down to the lower, adjacent building.

Don sighed, his shoulders dropping, allowing himself a moment discomfort with the lack of options presented. There was no happy medium, nothing that gave him a solid and just solution. Instead, he was presented with the idea of leaving Mikey and Leo alone while he and Raph left, or risk letting Raph go on his own to deal with this. With a reluctant note to his voice, Don called, as he sprinted after his brother, "Raph, wait up...!"

* * *

"Are we really just going to leave him here?" Mikey mumbled once they'd carefully placed the unconscious kid on the ground away from a broken beer bottle. He reached up and pinched at the round part of his face, acting as the bridge of his nose. "It smells gross in here-like the sewer. Hey! Get it Leo?! 'Cause we live in the sewer...?

"Yes. yes, we are." Leo had already moved back toward the door which they'd come through. "And I get it, Mikey. Will you be quiet now? We need to be stealth about getting out of here and you're not helping." It never occurred to him that this had been the spot the kid had been leaving to begin with; in fact Leo hadn't thought backward at all - only to how they should proceed forward. There was no other way to go but up, literally and figuratively, and Leo had a foolproof plan.

Mikey lingered back for a moment, looking at the unconscious teen. He bent down low and smoothed the boy's hair down and even brushed dirt and grime off of his shirt and bloody wound. "Tough luck, bro. Be strong...you're going to be okay." Mikey said quietly and affectionately, his eyes round and worried for the boy.

"Mikey," Leo hissed. "Come on. Raph and Don will have called the cops by now. We gotta get out of here before they come storming in and find a broken kid...and two mutant turtles hanging around. It might not go over well." Before either could proceed a pair of headlights burned through the flighty widow, from a vehicle clearly having just entered the alley. Instinctively both turtles hit the ground, out of sight.

After the lights vanished into the night, both turtles rose swiftly to their feet. "No, this way!" Leo barked and waved Mikey towards the stairs. "Well get the roof from inside, that way we won't be exposed."

Mikey didn't even question his brother; he turned to the stairs and took them two at a time. Once they hit the tenth floor, the upward option ended and they spilled out into a vast room full of boxes and crates.

Mikey hadn't taken the time to even bother looking at them as he weaved between the stacks, sprinting across the room to where the stairs reconvened. He moved expertly and silently, adapting to his surroundings as he gave little concern to the full detail of what they were. Mikey couldn't predict it and therefore he thrived best in chaos. However, his eye caught a better glimpse of one of the wooden boxes with black letters stenciled with spray paint on the side. He ground to a halt, his feet scraping the ground and carefully jogged backward, never once pulling his eyes away from the crates before him.

Upon initial consideration, this building it appeared abandoned, long ago. Boarded up buildings, a leaking roof and several unfinished or rotted ceilings indicated an aged and decrepit building. The fresh wooden crate suggested otherwise as Mikey read 'Ammo' in fresh paint. "Hey, Leo..." he turned slowly, his words drawn out in his surprise. But as he did, rather than seeing the face he'd anticipated seeing, Mikey took he took the butt of a gun to his cheek in a sharp, searing white hot rush of pain that sent him sprawling to the ground.

* * *

**::Author's Note::** Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. We are very grateful for it. We'd love to hear any comments you have. Please know that all comments are so greatly appreciated!


	4. Throw Lit Cigarettes Down

**Dream of Better Days  
**Chapter 3:  
Throw Lit Cigarettes Down

* * *

Leo had heard his name as it echoed across the walls, bouncing off of the crevices between the crates before being absorbed into the building's massive structure. He'd also heard the footsteps on the other side of the room; presumably in front of the door that led to the remaining flight of stairs that would go to the roof. The building was oddly lain out, and likely a product of some code violation in the turn of the 20th century. It made navigation especially difficult.

Last thing Leo knew, Mikey had been behind him - Leo's keen ears were able to hone in on the sound of his brother's large feet hitting the concrete floor. Those footsteps, however, had long since died, disappearing into the echoing silence along with Leo's name. He rounded back as soon as he realized their absence, just in time to Mikey crumple to the ground.

His katana were instantly in his hands, silver trails following where they'd been jerked from their sheaths. Two men stood over Mikey's body, both bearing the mark of the Purple Dragon gang and automatic weapons. The guns didn't phase Leo, not after fighting the Kraang's other-dimensional blaster weapons.

"You'll want to step away from him," Leo warned the Dragon pinning Mikey while the other had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His stance was low and his sharp blades turned in preparation for the possible attack.

The two goons glanced Leo's way, responding to the foreign voice. In the time lapsed, the two Dragon had let their eyes wander from the pinned ninja, giving Mikey a chance to spring to his feet. The orange masked turtle took the opportunity with extreme haste, flicking a nunchuck around the wrist of one dragon. The metal chain twisted around the man's wrist with a snap of metal, cutting deeply into the flesh of the oversized man. Mikey flipped him, with a hearty jerk of both arms, over his shell so the man sprawled out on his back, hacking at the wind that was knocked from him.

The other was immediately engaged Leo with a peppering of bullets, assuming his brethren had Mikey's demise covered. Leo ducked as the silver bullets rolled through the air, aimed for any part of his body imaginable. He rolled behind a stack of wooden crates as the hail of ammo showered towering boxes that now protected Leo.

With his opponent still coughing wildly, Mikey took the opportunity to sweep the other man's feet out from underneath of him. The gun didn't stop, even as he fell backward - it only caused the bullets to spray out in all directions. Mikey threw himself forward onto his belly and covered his head with the thickest parts of his arms. It never occurred to the orange masked turtle that the bullets wouldn't be stopped by the mere flesh from the back of his hand to his elbow; though it did drown out some of the racket.

Leo was given the opportunity to spring back to action, not taking a moments hesitation. "Why couldn't it be simple? It was supposed to be simple." Leo mumbled as he brought his katana to the throat of the Dragon who still lay on his back and then proceeded to turn on his authoritative voice. "You and your friend are going to let us go, right?" Leo's blade poked the man's throat, the cigarette having fallen from his lips, the dying ember winking at him.

"Excellent, thanks bro," Mikey commented, catapulting to his feet once the gunfire died down.

"This ain't over, freak," one hissed, a gravelly tone to his voice from the viscous layer of tar lining his throat.

Mikey's tongue poked out, "I know you are but what am I?" he mocked in a songish voice as he sprinted after Leo; who'd turned and went for the door.

Something, however, made the leader stop. It was the thought that he could, in a single act, bring down one of the Purple Dragon's largest known ammo warehouses. It was what would lead to greatness - the ability for forethought as it would eliminate so many future problems and essentially cripple one of their more brutish enemies. Just like Captain Ryan, he could save so much time and so many lives if he destroyed this place in one fell swoop. He didn't let lingering threat remain in way when he knew he could stop it.

Mikey bumped into him as Leo skidded to a halt, an 'oof' sounding from Mikey as his plastron collided with hard shell.

"Duuuuuude?" Mikey moaned.

"Grab that canvas tarp, Mikey." Leo pointed sharply to a pile of discarded heavy fabric in the corner.

"Um..."

"Mikey!" Leo snapped in an attempt to get his brother to act rather than question. It was a hasty series of observations that brought Leo's keen mind to his current deliberation. There was no room for error and no room for second-guessing, neither of which Leo was ready to accept in his flawless plan. As Mikey grabbed up the tarp, Leo made his way back to where the thugs had been, both of which he knew would be on them momentarily. With expert precision, the tip of his katana speared the fallen cigarette, its embers still aglow.

One of the boxes he'd passed caught his eye in the initial pass through of the room. Not for its contents but for the environment in which it sat; in front of it was an object Leo hadn't the time, then, to assess. It was a forgotten bottle of clear liquor, its contents spilled out on the floor.. When he got closer, and scooped it up with his free hand, he read that it claimed the contents to be vodka.

"There Mikey," Leo's voice had gathered an edge of urgency. He knew that soon, very soon, the thugs would be on them again. Mikey threw the tarp down as his brother indicated and Leo dumped the bottle final contents onto the dry fabric before tossing it too onto the surface.

As predicted, the Purple Dragon lackeys were gathering their bearings and coming for the two turtle brothers. "Go. Go. GO!" Leo shouted at Mikey as he flicked his sword arm with one swift motion. The cigarette flipped off the end and landed in the heart of the accelerant. The ember of the butt was hot enough to catch the vodka vapors and in an instant, a bigger fire than Leo had expected roared to life. Flames began to burn and lick through the rough fabric, spreading in mere seconds. It jumped instantly from the canvas to one of the crates as had been Leo's intent.

The fire's growing strength separated the turtle brothers and their pursuers; however, it also brought to life the contents of the box unexpectedly. Rounds that had been meant as ammo for guns were set off by the immense heat contained in the singular, enclosed space. The firecracker like pops made Leo duck his head down, as he sprinted behind Mikey, urging his brother to keep moving forward. He felt something bite into the flesh of his bicep, searing pain radiating down his arm though Leo did all he could to ignore it..He could not, however, ignore the loss of control he had as his arm screamed in agony and his katana went spiraling backward, toward the fire.

"MIKEY!" He barked and the orange clad turtle stopped, mere feet from the door. When he turned back, he saw what he'd expected from the sheer heat. "Cool theory, terrible execution." Mikey howled over the roaring of the fire.

"My weapon." Leo pointed and Mikey's eyes bulged in surprise. The younger brother could sense the urgency at which they needed to escape - if not be the smell and feel of the heat around them but by the intensity of the sound and the way the flames were licking the walls eagerly. Leo, on the other hand, wouldn't risk the dishonor of losing his weapon; it meant a great deal to him and losing his katana would be similar to losing an arm or a leg. Furthermore he was cocky enough to think he could get it and still escape.

"No...no, no, no, nononono! Leo, we can get you another one. Lets split, kitchen's a little hot and I'm not too keen on being chucked into a stew anytime soon! Turtle meat doesn't taste good, trust me!" Mikey cried in hysterics.

"And we gotta get that kid out of here too. We can't just leave without them! The whole place could come down."

Mikey bolted in front of Leo before he could proceed with his attempt to rescue the katana. "No can do, bro." Mikey's hands pressed flat to Leo's plastron. As soon as they did an explosion, louder than any of the previous crates erupting into gunfire, rang out. The force came from directly behind Mikey and shot the orange clad turtle forward, as fire licked up his back and Leo was sure he saw Mikey's bandanna tails catch fire; but that was only for a second, as Mikey smashed into Leo - their chests coming together with a horrible crack.

That, however, was the least of Leo's worries. The force of the explosion threw Leo back too. He felt his shell collide with glass that splintered, sending a ringing through his ears; until he realized exactly what that meant. The ringing turned into blood pumping when Leo realized they were freefalling from the building. The force and fire that Mikey took direct on had knocked him unconscious and he fire Leo had started was shooting out of the broken window floors above.

It was like a dream, the sensation of falling. Only this was not a dream he'd wake up from - it was one that would kill him.

The thought of imminent death below jerked Leo to action. He reached out with both arms, catching Mikey's wrist with one and the fire escape with the other. Mikey slammed into the wrought iron railing and didn't even threaten to wake up. As he did, Leo felt every muscle in his arm roar in agony when the weight of his brother and his fingers barely holding to the metal above tore across his body from fingertip to fingertip. The fibers along his back and shoulder muscles could be heard, reverberating in the back of his skull, tearing and ripping apart from the shear strain of his body in that singular moment. He bit back a scream and settled for a grunt.

He hung there for several moments, barely holding on to both Mikey and the railing while he willed himself enough strength to move the unconscious turtle. Leo had to give him a little swing and let him go, hoping he would land on the escape balcony below. With a heavy thud, he fell behind his brother and landed clumsily next to him. Leo's arms were shaking from the sheer amount of exertion and damaged muscular foundation. It was taking all of his focus to not pass out.

The back of Mikey's head was burned, blistered violently across his bald skull. It was angry, dark reds and near blacks across the surface and the smell of burnt flesh was so strong, Leo felt his stomach tie in knots. His shell was charred and broken in a few places from being blasted, with blood trickling out the sides from where the inner structure had started to rip away from his skin. .

"Mikey...?" Leo managed through a hoarse whisper, smoke deeply saturating his lungs. Right then, he didn't have the time to blame himself for all of this. He could still feel the flames pouring out of the window several stories up; there was also a constant pecking of the ammo going off without any guns to initiate it - only the fire.

* * *

Some half a dozen rooftops away, Raph and Don were still looking for a pay phone.

"You know," Don skidded to a halt. "We could call April and _she _could call the police."

"Any reason for you to call April." Raph mumbled mockingly with a sideways smirk.

"Actually I was -" Don started to explain but the sound of explosion cut him off as both turtles ducked instinctively. The two exchanged quick glances, knowing fully well that the building in which the explosion originated from was the same that had been where Leo and Mikey were.

* * *

A/N: This is essentially the part of the story we both have been most excited for-and so it truly begins. Thanks to everyone for reading, we appreciate you more than anything! Thank you and let us know how you like it thus far!


	5. Everyone Learns Faster on Fire

**Dream of Better Days  
**Chapter 4:  
Everyone Learns Faster on Fire

* * *

Raph was certain he'd never run so fast in his life.

He wasn't sure if Don was with him or not, he didn't care. Though he'd never admit it, there was an inherent need to bottle up those kinds of emotions, it was panic that had him fling himself clumsily across the rooftop. He slammed, unceremoniously, into the railing of the fire escape on the adjacent building; the one this night had started out in. He cursed as he missed his mark and had to catch himself on the wrought iron with only his fists. He felt the metal bite into his hands, the flaked bits of rusted steel and iron digging into his coarse skin like shards of broken glass. It was with no thought or effort, only action, that had him pull himself over onto the landing so he could dart toward the widow.

Flames were licking up the side of the building and spitting out at him as more shells went off. The sheer intensity of the flame and heat was not of concern to Raph, all his mind considered was the well being of his brothers trapped inside. He was rearing up to dive head first into the window in order to pull Leo and Mikey out of the burning building.

He was seconds from doing just that when he heard his name over the roar of the blaze, and the swelling from the heat in his ear canal.

"RAPH!"

For a moment, he thought it was his subconscious screaming at him to stop. The same voice that rarely surfaced and, when it did, he beat it back into submission with the intention to control his own destiny.

"RAPHAEL!"

It was the second time his name echoed in the chaos that he realized his internal voices never, not ever, sounded remotely like Donatello.

He twisted around to see his brother on the adjacent roof, swinging his arms around wildly trying to get his attention. A momentary shot of annoyance bolted through Raph until he realized Don wasn't just trying to stop him. There was more to his actions as Donnie was screaming something unintelligible and pointing down. Raph squinted and then whipped his head over the railing to where Don was pointing.

He could hear Don's soft landing on the fire escape across the way and his feet pattering down the stairs. Some several stories below Mikey and Leo were laying haphazardly on the metal grate - neither moving. He was moving before he realized his feet were carrying him down toward them.

"No...no, no, NO!" Raph was mumbling as Don had gotten to the ground and was now coming up their fire escape from the bottom; both arriving at the same instant. Don's hands were shaking while he reached forward to touch Leo.

He fought off a jump when Raph's fingers closed around his wrist. "Don't do it, Don...don't touch them."

Don's round eyes turned up to his brother. He couldn't will himself to blink if he wanted to and his bottom jaw trembled. He was the tech guy, he put stuff together, he fixed things - not _people_. All of them were versed in how to treat bumps and bruises, mostly they just waited it out. Don had never seen anything like this...no amount of waiting could erase the ripples of black, charred skin from Mikey's face or realign Leo's misshapen shoulder. Donnie, for the first time, didn't know what to do.

"I...I...I was just going to check for a pulse." Don whispered, his voice trembling as he said it.

It was that moment that both of them took in the weight of what was being said. Raph gave Don's wrist a push toward them and the force made Don catch himself so he didn't land on Leo's unconscious body with his full weight. He was inches from Mikey's head. He could smell the charred flesh and Don was unsure if he'd be able to keep his last meal down.

His head snapped up to Raph and a bright, albeit naive, smile crossed his face. "He's breathing! Leo's breathing."

"Maybe not for long if we don't get moving. I think this building's gonna come down. Then none of us'll be breathing."

Don nodded a little bit, acknowledging what was being said, but not comprehending that that meant they needed a plan. No matter the capacity for thought, in his fear and awe-struck state, Donnie was having a hard time concentrating; he often did under pressure. He could hear the fire near to them now, having moved down the building at a rapid pace for the decaying interior and likely questionable workmanship done some dozen decades before. It was elevating his stress level and lowering his clearheadedness.

"No..." Don jumped and Raph's head snapped down, both hearing Leo's husky voice rasp. "The kid...get the kid out."

It was the final words he let loose before there was no energy left in their leading brother. Don looked up to Raph with a questioning gaze that silently begged the question, 'Do we have to?'

"No." Raph said with some finality to his voice. "No, I'm not going in there for some **kid **that could get us all caught or killed. We don't got the time for it, Don. Lets get out of here. Now!"

"But Leo said -"

Raph opened his mouth to cut Don off as Raph knew the turtle had a tendency to ramble, and he was in no mood for it. However, the building took care of it for him with a sputter and a deafening crack. The fire escape, designed for what it's name declared, broke free on one side and all four turtles, already packed into a small space, slid across the grate. Raph grabbed Mikey's carapace with meaty digits, wrapped around his slippery and scorched plastron. Don caught Leo's ankle with a hearty jerk; all so neither tumbled over the edge, but both conscious brothers were barely hanging on.

It was as if both were in agreement when sudden danger loomed around them in the compromised structure of the fire escape. The decision to get Leo and Mikey out of there immediately was silently made. The sooner the better; particularly as the sounds of sirens drowned out the sound of fire and flashing lights blue and red were echoing down the street, bouncing off the buildings in an array of color.

* * *

**::Author's Note::**

Together we have made a resolution, a New Year's resolution. Moving forward we will not start posting any story that is not complete. The ones already posted, obviously, are an exception. That being said we are planning a new part for 'Sing to Me'. Also, lately, Harley has had an idea for a new short work. Keep an eye out for that too; I expect it'll be four or five chapters revolving around Donatello.

As always, thank you for reading. We'd love to know what you think. Thank you so much for your time.


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